I woke up to the sound of a woman screaming. Quickly, I realized it was my mother. This would probably worry most people- but not me. This is just my usual hell. The clock on the wall read 7:43, meaning it was 6:13. I've been to damn lazy to fix the time on it. Maybe I'll fix it after school. That is, if I come home anyway. But for now, I have to subtract a hour and a half. All well.

My mother's yelling is getting louder. She's saying something along the lines of, "I'll fucking kill you, you fucking asshole!" She's screaming at my dad. He probably deserves to die anyway.

He's been accused of so many sex offenses, even though none of them have really been proven to be true. Still, I think he should be thrown in jail. Little 8 year old girls don't make up shit like that, and even if they did, at 20 year old wouldn't accuse him of it six months later, and then an 18 year old 2 years later. But apparently, I'm the only one who sees that isn't very likely to be a coincidence. I think he paid-off the judge.

He's also been caught cheating several time. So with all the lawyers, and then the cheating, my mom couldn't take it. She relapsed after 3 years of being sober. Even got me to open the Whiskey bottle for her. That was 6 years ago, when I was 11. Things still just keep getting worse.

"I'll leave and never come back!" she yells.

She's left for months at a time before, but she's never not came back. I like it when she leaves. My dad's barely around when she's gone. There's finally peace for a little. But this house is full of bad memories, so it's hard to actually hang around here.

"I don't give a shit!" he yells back.

Now she's throwing things.

I don't want to be here another minute.

I get out of bed quickly, pull on black skinnies, a red Blink tee, my old worn out shoes - that I love passionately, and my black hood. Good to go.

Something hits my door and shatters.

"Fuck off!" I yell, grabbing my cell and heading towards the window. I'm not going into that war-zone and having them tell me how horrible I am, or how they hate me, how I ruined everything, or having my mom call me a faggot. Nope, not today.

Frost caked the outside of the window, making it even colder than it usually is. Damn weather. My fingers sting as I push it open. Where are my gloves?

Another glass -or plate, or whatever the fuck it was- hit my door.

Fuck gloves, I'm outta here. I climb up, and out the window, until I have to make that little jump.

There's a thud as my feet hit the ground, and then start slipping on dew. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, no. And then I'm on the ground.

My face is freezing, and my clothes are damp. Wonderful.

I start on my quest to warmth, otherwise known as school, or hell. Hey, at least it's warm there.

After about 15 minutes, I see the school. No one I know will be there this early. I hate being at school early, even by a few minutes. I can never find anyone I know, because I don't really know many people well enough to hang out with them. There's basically just Bob and Ray. And they're dating, so they're usually just making-out in Ray's car before school. I know if they knew I wanted to hang out they'd would be up for it, but they haven't been getting much time to see each other alone lately. I don't want to take that time away from them. So basically I just end up wondering around, pretending like I'm looking for someone.

I still have an hour. No way I'm stayin' at school, so I head towards the main street.

I open the door to the diner and immediately feel the warmth. Oh, it feels so good. The relieving smell that could only be coffee hits my nose. An old rusted sign on the wall reads "Seat Yourself". That I will sign, that I will.

I take a seat at the counter. A short red head comes over to take my order. I ask for coffee, of course.

As I grip the coffee cup my fingers sting from the warmth. It's that nice sting though. As I'm sipping my coffee I hear someone take a seat next to me. Hmmph. I hope they don't want to converse. I'm not up for that this early.

"Coffee?" the male voice next to me asks loudly, trying to get the waitress's attention.

I hear change clinking as he rummages through his pockets.

"Damn," he says.

The guy tapped my arm.

Ugh, dude, leave me be.

Fine, I'll be social. He's lucky. Before turning to him I take a sip of coffee. Mistake.

When I see him my jaw slacks a bit and coffee ends up dribbling out of the corner of my mouth. Nice, Frank. Real nice.

He's gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.

"Hey man, uh, can I borrow two bucks?"

How can someone even look like that? Okay Frank. Stop staring. Stop staring.

Shit! He asked you something. Speak. Come on, speak!

"Borrow? You gonna pay me back?"

"…Uh, well..yeah of course."

"Uh-huh. I'll hold you to that, y'know," I say, handing him two dollars.

He smiles as he takes it. His thumb brushes against my hand and my heart jumps.

Tilting his head to the side, he asks, "What? So you're like some sort of stalker, huh? I'm okay with that, but I'm not liable for any injuries or mental damages you get around me," he says, smiling like it's an inside joke.

"Stalker?"

"You said you'd hold me to it. Maybe I took that the wrong way. You didn't mean sexually did you?"

I'm sure the look on my face is a mix between horrified and horny.

He continues, "But I was assuming you meant differently, so to make my point, I could walk away right now, chances are you'd never see me again. You'd never get your two bucks back. Now, if you were a stalker, you would defiantly see me again, so you would be able to hold me to the two bucks."

"Well, then yes," I reply, "I'll stalk you."

"Looking forward to it, erm…What's your name again?"

"Frank, I'm Frank."

"Okay, looking forward to it Frankie."

Frankie! Hey called me Frankie! I like this guy.

The guy starts looking around at the kitchen.

"What the hell do I have to do to get a coffee?" He then gets up and walks behind the counter, towards the coffee pot.

"Um, dude, I don't think you're supposed to be back there.

He shrugged at me. "I want coffee."

Just then the red head comes running, obviously angry.

"What the hell are you doing behind the counter? Get the hell out!" She starts pushing him away.

"Okay! Okay!" he says, walking back to the seat, hands up in surrender.

I handed him my coffee. "I wasn't much in a coffee mood anyway," I say.

He gaped at me.

"You- you'd give me your coffee?" he asks. I nodded.

"I adore you Frankie," he said, gripping the cup. He- he adores me? Okay, butterflies.

"Oh, I'm Gerard, by the way. Damn, I always forget to introduce myself."